


Hey, Sunshine

by nerdylittledude



Series: Ugly Sweater !Verse [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 17:46:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdylittledude/pseuds/nerdylittledude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gratuitous porn, plain and simple. Dean finds out that Cas is actually a kinky son of a bitch... and that apparently works well with romance. No one ever said they were a conventional couple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey, Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> Dean topping! Not gonna be a regular occurrence in this 'verse, but every now and then is okay. I'm actually quite nervous about this. I'm not terribly good at Dean's pov because it's so straight forward. With Cas, I can lace it with overly romantic sentiments...

Dean wakes up on a particularly bright Thursday morning to Cas straddling his waist and leaning over him, eyes dark and blue and intense as ever. It’s a very interesting image to wake up to, and in Dean’s groggy, half-asleep state, he’s not sure how to react.

“Hey, Sunshine,” he says tiredly, pressing a palm to his eyes to rub them awake. Cas responds with an oh-so-subtle downward push of his hips. Dean’s still half-unconscious, so he’s only vaguely aware of what’s going on.

“Hello, Dean,” he replies – and seriously, that tone of voice is _extra_ sinful this early in the morning. “Wake up.”

“Cas, ‘m tired,” Dean says, pulling the pillow over his face. Cas yanks it off and tosses it aside.

“Dean.”

 _“Wha-at?”_ Dean whines, opening bright green eyes to pout at his angel. Cas leans forward and lays against Dean’s chest, bringing his lips to Dean’s ear. The very feel of his breath alone is enough to wake Dean up by degrees.

“I’d like to sleep with you,” Cas growls in his ear and Dean is suddenly very, very awake.

“Christ, Cas,” Dean breathes, voice already hitching, “morning wood, much?”

“I was dreaming about you,” Cas says, ignoring what was probably a term he’s not familiar with, “Couldn’t wait to wake up and feel you, Dean.” And – and holy _shit_ , but Dean’s awkward nerd angel is seriously _dirty talking_ right in his ear. Dean’s pretty sure Cas doesn’t even know that’s what he’s doing. That makes it even hotter – the fact that Cas is just _talking_ , saying what’s really on his mind. Dean suddenly feels way too warm.

“Yeah?” Dean answers stupidly, ‘cause he’s still a little taken aback by the fact that he woke up with a lap full of angel eager to screw him.

“Yes. You were moaning. Saying my name. I wished to hear the real thing.”

“That so?” Dean manages to croak out, because his throat suddenly feels very, very dry. Then Cas licks into his mouth insistently, biting and tugging at Dean’s bottom lip until it’s wet and swollen. Dean kisses back eagerly, slides a hand up and down Cas’ bare back.

“My morning breath not bothering you?” Dean asks with a little smirk. Cas shakes his head.

“I love your mouth, Dean,” Cas says against his lips, “I love how you taste. I’ll always love how you taste.”

Well _shit_ , if this awkward dirty talk thing isn’t going straight to Dean’s dick.

“What else did you dream?” Dean says, mostly just to keep Cas talking because it’s seriously doing it for him.

“I dreamt you were inside me,” Cas whispers. “I think I would like that.”

“Well, fuck,” Dean says, because this sounds like an awesome idea. So far, Dean’s been more than content to let Cas fuck his brains out again and again because the guy is _so damn good at it_. For someone so recently deflowered, Cas caught on quick and seems to have some otherworldly knowledge of just about everything that can make Dean crazy with want. Dean wouldn’t be surprised if some of Cas’ angel mojo stuck around for the sole reason of being able to screw Dean senseless. It’s not that Cas has any real finesse, really – the guy is very obviously still learning, still awkward and unpracticed – but Cas knows him _inside and out_ , and Dean’s been more than happy to bottom and benefit from that fact. Hell, topping hasn’t even _occurred_ to him until now, which is saying something. Now that Cas mentions it, though, the idea of being able to pound into his boyfriend has Dean’s blood running hot as hell.

“That is the idea, yes,” Cas replies with a low chuckle, and Dean smirks because he’s pretty sure he taught Cas that cheeky comeback. Cas kisses him then, deep and dirty and promising all sorts of things. Dean’s dick is going concrete, fast.

“What else?” Dean prompts as Cas runs fingers through his hair, tugging lightly every now and then. Cas looks inexplicably shy for a minute, and Dean’s curiosity is piqued. What the hell is _this_ look about? Dean’s more excited than he ought to be.

“Cas? Tell me.”

Cas presses a kiss to Dean’s jaw. “Humanity is strange. I don’t understand why this body desires the things that it desires. I – I dreamt that you bound my wrists to the headboard,” Cas says, and his voice is so quiet on the last sentence that it’s scarcely audible. He lays his cheek against Dean’s, and Dean can feel his angel’s face burning hot beneath his scruff with what is probably blush. Dean sucks in a deep breath of air because holy _shit_.

“You – you want me to tie you up and _fuck you_ into the mattress, Cas? That what you want?” he says, and his voice is embarrassingly breathy and shallow considering how little touching they’re doing. Cas shuts his eyes, clearly embarrassed of himself.

“It was a foolish dream,” Cas says meekly, and – and Jesus Christ, Dean’s already coming apart at the mental image alone and Cas is _ashamed_ for some reason.

“God, Cas, you kinky son of a bitch,” Dean says, and his voice is shaky and has something like awe in it. Dean tilts his head so he can kiss Cas heatedly, trying to assure him that _holy fuck yes, this is a very good idea_.

“Kinky?” Cas asks, seemingly dropping a little of his apprehension in light of Dean’s enthusiastic kisses. Dean gently moves Cas off his body and gets out of bed, looking around the room.

“Dean?”

“Do we have any rope?” Dean turns to look at Cas, and even from where he’s standing he can see the way Cas’ eyes darken and how he swallows hard.

“Yes. When we moved the couch in, we secured it to the truck with rope – ”

“Where?”

Cas clears his throat like he’s trying to keep it together, and his voice breaks the tiniest bit when he replies. “Hallway closet.”

Dean finds it in a flash, tugging it from the top shelf where it’s sitting. The rope is a little coarser than he would have liked and he frowns at it as he walks past. Cas is looking at him like he’s seen the face of God or something.

“Cas, man, this rope is gonna burn your wrists a little. Maybe…”

“No, Dean, I don’t care. I want it. Please. The marks… I want everyone to see who I belong to.”

Well, shit, if that isn’t the biggest turn on in the goddamn world. Dean thinks he should ask again, insist, but Cas is so damn eager and seriously, Cas can’t exactly go around saying shit like that without expecting to follow through. And Dean can’t expect himself to double check when Cas looks so hot for it, like the idea of some light wrist burns has him going a little crazy inside. Dean wants to make him crazy, push him over the edge. If tying him up will do it for him… well, it’ll do it for them both, and Dean’s sure as hell not going to hesitate another second.

“Get on your back, Cas,” Dean instructs, and Cas complies immediately. He reaches his hands up to the bars of their headboard and Dean crawls over him quickly, tying up Cas’ wrists. Cas gives a soft little exhale like he’s been holding his breath, and Dean feels a little dizzy with want. When Dean’s done tying, Cas gives an experimental tug on the ropes. They barely budge, and something comes alive in Cas’ eyes.

“Gonna make you feel so good, Cas,” Dean says, aware that he sounds kind of dumb – but really, whatever, it’s not like Cas has any basis of comparison. “So fucking good.”

“Yes, Dean,” Cas rasps, meeting Dean’s eyes with that intense eye-fucking thing that he does. Dean kisses him, tongue probing the inside of his mouth, and Cas’ eyes flicker shut and a tiny noise like a stunted moan escapes his mouth between kisses. He arches up ever so slightly, putting pressure against Dean’s groin and making his breath hitch. He vaguely wonders why he waited so goddamn long in introducing the wonders of sex to Cas.

“Let’s try something new,” Dean says, like they aren’t already going through a list of new _everything_ this morning. He moves down the length of Cas’ body til his mouth is hovering just above the edges of Cas’ boxers.  Dean hears the thump of the headboard against the wall – Cas is straining against his ropes, making the headboard move back and forth loudly. Dean looks up at him and grins wickedly, savoring the desperation he sees on Cas’ face.

“Dean, Dean – ” Cas rasps, feet losing placement on the bed again and again as he struggles to keep himself still. Dean chuckles, sounding dark and more dirty than intended.

“Like that idea?” he asks, and Cas nods vigorously. Dean presses a kiss to the band of Cas’ boxers and Cas makes a very satisfying mewling noise. Dean shakes his head. “You gotta do more than that, baby, you gotta _tell_ me. I wanna _hear_ you.”

“Not a baby, Dean,” Cas interjects, though the retort is so broken with want that it’s not very intimidating. Cas is not a fan of pet names that don’t make sense to him, like ‘sugar’ and ‘baby’, and Dean has an unfortunate habit of using them all the time during sex. Cas never fails to correct him, though, even if he’s in the middle of half-begging or something.

Dean pushes Cas’ boxers down marginally, just enough to get Cas’ full attention, and sucks a hickey to the skin above the hem of the fabric. Again the headboard loudly makes its presence known and Cas’ legs shake.

“Dean, please,” Cas says, and his voice is a quiet, reverent _growl_.

 “Hmm? Please _what_?” Dean asks, biting the sensitive skin where he just left a hickey that’s already bruising beautifully.

“Please – Dean, stop this, this isn’t f–“

“Stop?” Dean asks innocently, starting to move away. Cas’ whimper is practically heartbreaking.

“ _Dean_.”

“Talk to me, Cas,” Dean says, placing his thumbs on Cas’ hips and rubbing circles. Cas breathes hard, but all else is quiet for a moment.

“I want you to – to, um,” Cas sounds awkward, like he’s not even entirely sure of the wording for what he wants to happen. Dean’s pretty sure he’s going to end up with something like ‘let us engage in oral sex’ or something to that effect, but if it’s coming out of Cas’ mouth Dean’s pretty sure it’ll do it for him. This expectation is why he’s surprised when Cas says, “I want you to suck me off.”

… Well, shit.

Dean grins, utterly, shamelessly dirty, and looks up at Cas with lust-blown pupils. Cas groans and his hips thrust forward just the slightest bit.

“Dean – Dean, please, I want… I want your mouth on me, please. I want to feel you.”

“Keep talking, sugar,” Dean says, and Cas scowls at the pet name. Dean makes amends by licking into Cas’ navel and then catching the skin there between his teeth. The noise Cas makes is shaky and borderline desperate.

“ _Suck me off, Dean,”_ Cas growls, and this time when he bucks forward he’s not so subtle. Dean chuckles.

“You’re the one tied up, Cas. You’re not giving the orders here. I want you to beg for it.”

“Dean – this isn’t funny, Dean, I can’t – ”

“Beg, Cas.”

Cas heaves a deep sigh and then mewls abruptly when Dean drags nails down the backs of his thighs.

“Please,” Cas whispers, “Please, Dean, I need you.”

“Can’t hear you,” Dean says, though he knows he’s about to cave. Cas’ voice is gravelly and broken and Dean’s going a little crazy at the sound of it. He nuzzles into Cas’ crotch.

“ _Please,”_ Cas says – and this time it’s a moan, uncharacteristically loud and breathy and needy and Dean can’t ask for any more than that. He yanks Cas’ boxers down properly and Cas’ hips shake and his breathing picks up even more. His cheeks are flushed and his skin is warm and the heat in Dean’s lower stomach feels like it might burn right through him. He takes Cas’ cock in one hand and rubs his thumb over the head, watching Cas intently as the other man’s eyes flicker shut and he gasps, loud and sharp, and his hips thrust forward. Dean braces Cas’ hips with one forearm, holding him down.

Then, he takes Cas into his mouth.

Neither Cas nor Dean are _terribly_ vocal in bed – mostly hitched, spastic, erratic breathing, normally – but Cas’ sudden moan right now is big and loud and shameless. Dean thinks vaguely of the neighbors because their flat is a townhouse, after all, and their kitchen wall is connected to another house’s kitchen wall. He’s not sure if Cas’ voice reaches that far, but Dean seriously doesn’t doubt it. Cas arches upward, feet pressed against the bed and even after his moan fades out, his mouth forms an ‘o’ and all coherency is lost. His wrists strain against the ropes and Dean’s certain there will be angry red marks by the time they’re through.

Needless to say, Dean feels pretty fucking proud.

Dean’s not exactly the king of blowjobs – he’s out of practice, it’s been a long damn time – but Cas’ reactions are so intense that he momentarily feels like a friggin porn star or something. His cheeks hollow out and his head bobs and Cas’ eyes are shut tight. Cas has never been sucked off before, so he doesn’t know that the way he’s thrusting his hips forward is just shy of gagging Dean. But Dean – Dean just takes it, because holy _fuck_ does it feel good to know how undone he’s making Cas.

And then he stops, abruptly, and Cas lets out a sharp mewl and then he’s glaring at Dean.

“Dean, why – ”

“Don’t wanna end this too soon,” Dean says, and he sucks a hickey to Cas’ thigh. The headboard hits against the wall because of how fiercely Cas is pulling against his restraints.

“Dean – Dean, please,” Cas begs, and Dean shivers. He really, really likes it when Cas begs. He sounds desperate, too, and he knows there isn’t a single bit of this that’s faked. He really _does_ need Dean so much that he’s willing to plea. Goosebumps are all over Dean’s skin despite how hot he is, how sweat is covering his body.

“Love the way you say please, Cas,” Dean says as he bites all over the other thigh, tantalizingly close to Cas’ dick, “like you gotta have it, need it – ”  

“I _do_ need it,” Cas hisses, and he wraps his legs around Dean’s torso in a way that’s borderline aggressive and really, really hot.

“Not gonna let you come, Cas, not yet,” Dean says – and yeah, the fact that Cas is all tied up and can only beg and writhe and cry out is more of a turn-on than Dean expected it’d be. Because, Jesus _Christ,_ Cas’ hair is a mess and his face is flushed and he’s powerless… but in a good way, in a way that Cas wanted. For a moment Dean revels in how willing Cas is to be vulnerable with Dean, how much he trusts him.

Then Cas starts repeating Dean’s name like a chant or a prayer and using his legs to push him down, and Dean’s brought back to the present.

“Not yet, Cas,” Dean says, “want you to come when I do. Want you to feel everything I’m feeling.” And Dean’s surprised that this comes out in a whisper, and his heart is doing something weird and he knows this isn’t just sexual – he wants them to share this because he wants to connect with Cas as deeply as he can. He wants to go over the edge together.

Cas slams his head against the pillow and loosens his legs’ grip just slightly.

“Trust you, Dean,” he says, and his tone has fallen to the quiet one Dean’s has, even if it’s broken up by ragged breathing. “Do whatever you want with me, I want it – need you, Dean, please.”

Dean moves up Cas’ body to kiss him, slow but deep, tongues tangling warmly and sensually. He feels noises rumbling in Cas’ throat, moans Dean is swallowing up with his mouth. It’s, to say the least, incredibly hot.

“Hold on,” Dean says, and takes a moment to slip a hand over the edge of the bed and under it, rummaging blindly for the lube they keep there permanently. He finally grabs hold of it and coats his fingers with it. Cas’ eyes are wide as he watches Dean.

“Is it going to hurt?” Cas asks suddenly, and averts his eyes like he’s suddenly shy. Which is seriously adorable.

… God, since when has Dean ever thought of ‘adorable’ and ‘sex’ in the same context?

“Not too much, I got you,” Dean reassures him, kissing his temple. “Your body knows mine.”

Cas nods fervently.

“It would be okay – if it did hurt. I don’t mind.”

Dean glances at Cas’ wrists, all red and chafing, and he’s pretty sure Cas isn’t kidding. So Cas likes it rough when he’s bottoming, apparently. It’s usually slow and smooth when Cas is on top, sensual and goddamn romantic. Yet there’s something romantic about this, too, despite how different it is. It finally hits him that no matter what he does with Cas, that feeling will be there.

He likes that idea.

Dean tentatively slips a slicked up finger into Cas and Cas sighs heavily. Dean freezes a moment, lets Cas adjust to the new sensation before Cas nods his permission to move on, add more fingers. Dean’s incredibly careful and Cas is lying flat against the bed, chest heaving, hips stuttering slightly forward every now and then.

Finally Dean deems Cas ready and he pulls Cas’ legs around his waist – Cas gets the picture and grips tight with them. Dean closes his eyes a moment and then opens them to find Cas’ blue eyes looking straight up at him. The sunlight from outside lights up Cas’ features and the lust in his eyes is so evident that Dean surges forward, entering Cas with a swift movement.

He waits – or tries to wait, but Cas writhes against his restraints and hits the headboard against the wall and growls, “ _Move, Dean,”_ and Dean figures Cas has all the prep he needs. He rocks his hips forward, slowly at first, but then carries on with a faster rhythm when he sees how blissfully Cas is responding.

Dean can tell when he hits Cas’ prostrate by the way his whole body freezes up and his breath hitches and his body arches up and it’s one of the greatest sights Dean’s ever seen. Pleased that he’s found it, Dean hits it again and again at Cas’ insistent urges of _harder, please_ and _Dean, faster_ and other whimpers. Cas _seriously_ likes it rough. Dean’s thinking he might need to take up running or something if him topping Cas is gonna be a recurring thing, because this is a damn workout. The headboard is beating against the wall again and again and this kind of sex is a completely new thing entirely.

“Dean, I’m going to – ”

Dean shakes his head vigorously.

“Not yet, angel, stay with me,” he says hoarsely, because he can feel release warm in his own lower stomach and he knows he’s close. He wants to come with Cas. In the (very, very) back of his mind, he notes that ‘angel’ is one pet name Cas seems to be okay with.

Cas gasps and gasps and tries to nod stiffly. Dean commends his effort.

Then Dean can’t talk anymore, can’t control his breathing, is essentially powerless to what his body is doing. In a quick movement, he grabs Cas’ cock and gives it a couple pumps, just to be sure – and that’s it, that’s all he needed.

Mission accomplished; Dean’s body shudders out one hell of an orgasm and Cas arches up below him with something just as strong. It’s sticky and gross and fucking amazing. Dean pulls out and then collapses on Cas in a heap. He reaches up and unties Cas’ wrists, with some difficulty because he’s so damn tired all of the sudden, and Cas is finally able to touch Dean. And he does it like he’s been starving for it, roaming his hands all over, over Dean’s chest and his back and the back of his neck. He brings his palm to Dean’s cheek and kisses him before he presses his sweaty forehead against Dean’s.

“That was much better than my dream,” Cas says after his breath has steadied a bit. Dean laughs.

“Well, good,” he says, and he realizes his voice is hoarse as hell from the essential mouth fucking during Cas’ blow job. He kinda likes it, for whatever reason. “If it wasn’t, I’d have to kick my dream self in the ass.”

Dean wraps an arm around Cas’ waist and tugs him close. Come is gross and sticky between them but the afterglow is so intense that he barely notices.

“Hey Cas?” he says eventually. Cas lifts his head weakly and looks at him.

“Yes, Dean?”

“Let’s save this shit for special occasions. Cause that was…” Dean doesn’t know how to say ‘almost over the top’ without sounding like a dick.

Cas gets it, though. “Agreed.”

Dean tucks his head below Cas’ chin and gives soft kisses to his throat before he finally falls asleep, lips pressed to Cas’ skin.

… and nasty come is stuck between their bodies, but really – who cares?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
